


I will NOT fail again!

by Rishal



Series: Rocket Angels [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-01
Updated: 2016-08-01
Packaged: 2018-07-28 18:40:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7652431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rishal/pseuds/Rishal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As a pacifist, Angela finds being in a warzone stressful.  After a mission where she nearly loses Fareeha, she has a breakdown.  Fareeha finds her and comforts her through it.  KinkMeme fill.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I will NOT fail again!

**Author's Note:**

> Full prompt:
> 
> for angela, as a pacifist in a constant warzone, nothing is easy.  
> after one particularly shaking mission, where angela came far far too close to losing her, she breaks down  
> fareeha holds her and comforts her through, reminds her they're both still here, that fareeha will always protect her and will always be there.  
> she gives angela gentle kisses, rubs her hands comfortingly. its not the first time this has happened to angela, and certainly won't be the last. fareeha hates seeing her like this, hates hearing her screaming and crying, her voice going raw and the tears running down her cheeks. every time, she helps her through it. when the heaving and the sobbing cries finally stop, and angela's death grip releases, and all thats left is her quietly sobbing into fareeha's shirt, angela whispers a "thank you".

The moment they returned to base, Angela made a beeline for the medbay, waving off the concerned looks and questions of her teammates. She hoped no-one would follow her. Though the fighting had been intense, most of the injuries were minor and easily treatable. The brunt of the damage had been sustained by Fareeha. Angela stopped, bracing herself against the wall as she fought the urge to vomit. The stresses of combat and patching up her friends were harrowing at the best of times. It was putting her lover back together that left her terrified, nauseous and trembling. Swallowing past the knot in her throat, she waited until the wave of nausea passed. Pushing away from the wall, she staggered through the remaining hallways. She fumbled with the door handle, her hands trembling so badly she couldn't get them to work.

After an eternity, she got the door open and slipped inside. The door shut behind her with a soft click and she leaned against it. Angela stared down at her trembling hands, detachedly wondering how she'd been steady enough to tend to Fareeha. Her muscles felt like jelly, utterly uncoordinated and devoid of strength. She slid down the door until she rested on the floor, knees tucked up to her chest. Unbidden, Angela was assaulted by memories of Fareeha as they'd found her. Fareeha's face bruised and bloodied, contorted in pain, her skin pale and clammy. Nose broken, right eye swollen shut, a deep gash running from the middle of her forehead to her temple. The shining blue and gold armor stained by dirt, smoke, and blood, dented by explosions, and riddled with bullet holes. Tacky drying blood had pooled on the ground around her.

Every image was a physical blow and Angela groaned as a wave of nausea washed over her again. She scrambled to her feet, barely making it to the bathroom in time. In the aftermath, as she rinsed out her mouth, one thought loomed before her; she'd come so close to losing Fareeha. Too close. She broke out in a cold sweat, heart pounding, chest tight. Behind her came a soft knock on the doorframe, followed by Fareeha's voice, "Angela?" She whipping around, stumbling back against the sink. For a long moment, she saw the injuries interposed over Fareeha's face. For an eternity, she law her lover, broken and bloodied at her feet and was helpless to save her. Angela reached out with a trembling hand to lightly trace the wadjet tattoo.

She blinked and looked up into Fareeha's worried eyes. " _Ya hayati_ , what is wrong? Tell me. Let me help." The kindness, the gentleness, in her lover's voice was her undoing. An overwhelming wave of dread swamped her, fear that some day soon she would lose Fareeha forever. Her brave, beautiful hawk would no longer soar the skies, raining down justice on those who would willfully harm the innocent. She'd no longer be able to curl up against the Egyptian's solid strength or enjoy the warmth of her body next to her own. Her heart clenched in her chest and she made a strangled, pained sound. Tears swam in her eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment.

Seeing Angela in distress worried Fareeha, on the battlefield, but especially in private. She knew she was the cause, understood just how difficult Angela found dealing with her injuries, how she agonized over every one. Even at the worst times, Angela never asked her to stop, never tried to change her. But Fareeha knew that she bottled up all her worry, fear, stress, and emotional upheaval. While Angela always kept it together on the battlefield, particularly dangerous missions and grievous wounds could shatter her delicate equilibrium.

Hearing Angela's choked cry, Fareeha took her hands and drew her slowly toward the office. Her heart ached at the terror on Angela's face, the tears shining in her eyes. She settled onto the worn leather couch she knew Angela used for naps. The leather creaked softly as Fareeha drew the smaller woman into her arms, kissing her forehead and tucking her head onto her shoulder. "Oh Angela, _ya hayati_ , tell me. What is wrong?" Angela covered her mouth with her hands as a sob wrenched itself from her throat and the looming tears spilled over at last.

"I thought I'd lost you! I saw you and I thought... I thought..." Fareeha waiting silently, gently stroking her lover's arm. "I thought 'no-one could look like that and still live'." Angela fell silent, shoulders shaking as she cried.

"I'm here, Angela, I'm fine. You made it so. I'm ok. It's ok..."

"It's NOT ok!" Angela yelled, pulling away. "You didn't see... you couldn't know! It wasn't sure the surface damage, the lacerations and contusions and bullet holes. There was so much internal damage. A concussion, internal bleeding, broken bones..." Her voice in pitch and volume as she recited the litany of injuries. "Do you know how difficult it was to look at you and wonder how you still drew breath? I didn't know if I'd be able to save you!"

Fareeha got off the couch and knelt in front of Angela. She took her slim pianists hands in her own dark, rough ones. "But you did. Whatever happened to me, whatever will happen, you'll be there." Her voice was soft, confident, reassuring. "You'll put me back together. And if you need it, I'll put you back together."

"I'm not a miracle worker!" Angela screamed. "I can mend bodies, but I can't mend death! And I wonder, what if I'd been slower? What if I'd arrived a few minutes later? Would I still have been able to save you? As it is, you've got more scars now because my technology isn't perfect." Her hands curled into tight fists, nails digging into her palms.

Fareeha carefully, gently, pried Angela's fingers from their clenched grasp. She placed a loving kiss on each palm, stroking them with her thumbs. "Hush, love. You weren't too late; you never are. Your timing is always impeccable. And I will bear these scars proudly, because I earned them protecting you."

Angela shook her head vigorously, stray hears sticking to her tear-streaked cheeks. "I shouldn't have let you out of my sight. I turned to help Reinhardt and when I looked back, you were gone. I had no idea where you went! I had no idea..." Once against, fear washed over Angela as images of her lover's broken, battered, unconscious body played in her mind's eye. She whimpered and curled onto her side, flinching away as Fareeha gently touched her shoulder. She squeezed her eyes shut, taking a shuddering breath as she felt a kiss pressed against her temple.

"I'm sorry; it was my fault. I saw a knot of flankers and went to keep them off you and Reinhardt. But it is ok now, _ya hayati_. We're here, alive. I'm here for you, so let it all out. Bleed your soul clean of this wound." Fareeha sat back on the couch, setting Angela's head in her lap and stroking her hair lovingly. "I love you. I'm here for you. Let me be your rock in this storm." Angela was rocked by sobs that shook her whole body. She grabbed Fareeha's hand in a crushing grip, holding on for dear life as her world narrowed to terrified sobs, excising the worry and stress. Her throat was raw from screaming and crying, but she muttered incoherently in German. Fareeha made no protest, offering comfort through her presence and her touch.

Gradually, Angela's tears slowed as she accepted that Fareeha was still with her, that she wasn't going anywhere. She sat up slowly only to crawl into her lover's lap. She buried her face in the crook of Fareeha's neck, breathing in the faint scent of her soap, her skin, and the oil she used to clean her rocket launcher. Fareeha rocked her gently, singing a soft lullaby in Arabic. Her tears dampened the collar of Fareeha's shirt until they eventually stopped, replaced by hiccups as she tried to even out her breathing. Fareeha continued to rock her slowly and they sat in silence until she was certain Angela had fallen asleep. Just as she was about to get up to take them to bed, Angela sighed and whispered, "thank you." It was so soft, Fareeha wasn't sure she'd have heard it if it hadn't been whispered right next to her ear. "Come, _ya hayati_ ," she said softly. "We are both exhausted. Leave the reports for tomorrow. Let us go to bed."

When Angela was safely tucked in, lost to slumber, Fareeha went to her dresser. She pulled open the top drawer and rummaged around in the back until her fingers closed around a small box. She pulled it out, flipped it open, and stared at the simple ring inside. The blue tourmaline perfectly matched the color of Angela's eyes, she'd made sure of that. Looking from the ring to the supine form on the bed, Fareeha felt her heart clench once again.

As she she closed the box, she promised herself she'd do better. She'd not be so reckless on the battlefield. She'd be more aware of her surroundings and more wary of snipers watching the skies. She'd communicate her position to her allies and keep better track of them, especially Angela. No longer would she seek glory over protecting what truly mattered. She tucked the ring box back into the drawer. She would start tomorrow, she promised herself, and she would start with a simple tourmaline ring. Holding that thought close, she slipped into bed. As she settled down beside Angela, she kissed her forehead and whispered, " _Ya rouhi, bahibbik awee_."

**Author's Note:**

>  _ya hayati_ \- "my life"  
>  _ya rouhi_ \- "my soul"  
>  _bahibbik awee_ \- "I love you so much"
> 
> It has been a while since I wrote anything for pleasure, but this prompt was interesting so I gave it a shot. Hope you guys like it.


End file.
